


The One Night Stand That Wasn't

by iamtabbyroad



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Floor Sex, Fluffy Ending, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Multiple Orgasms, One Night Stands, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Two Sex Scenes, quarantine sex, why arent actual quarantines like this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:34:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29417220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamtabbyroad/pseuds/iamtabbyroad
Summary: It was Christmas Eve and I’d been quarantined with Fred Weasley for nearly three months.
Relationships: Fred Weasley/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 58





	The One Night Stand That Wasn't

It was Christmas Eve and I’d been quarantined with Fred Weasley for nearly three months.

We’d decided to quarantine together largely out of practicality: we were friends, we both lived alone, and neither one of us fancied having no one to talk to but the houseplants for the duration of quarantine. So, I’d packed up my things and moved into Fred’s flat above the shop, taking up residence in the bedroom that used to be George’s before he got married and moved out.

The quarantine itself was supposed to be over at week six. That’s the timeline the Ministry kept using in all their official communications. Fred had laughed at me the first time I made reference to it.

“They’re only saying that to sell the public on the idea, you know,” he’d said. “Turnaround on potion-based vaccines is nowhere near that good when you look at previous timelines.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t take you to be a conspiracy theorist.”

He gave me a look. “You know I’m not,” he said, swatting at my arm for good measure. “And besides, ‘the Ministry is full of shit’ is hardly a conspiracy theory.”

“I suppose that’s fair.”

His gaze softened a bit. “I’m only saying, don’t expect to be done with this on that timeline. Dad’s been hearing things at work and he said he wouldn’t be surprised if it was longer than six weeks.”

“Well,” I said, “let’s hope you’re both wrong.”

This turned out to be deliriously optimistic. Six weeks turned into seven, eight, ten, and now it was nearly Christmas and the Ministry had gone from giving us definitive timelines to talking around the issue in any way they could.

We tried to make the best of it. Christmas trees weren’t part of the Ministry’s grocery delivery program, but Fred had saved one of the Christmas-Trees-in-a-Box that the shop sold and we set it up in the corner of the living room, next to the fireplace. We had made an ungodly amount of gingerbread and, after a few notable failures, eggnog. We had an ambitious menu planned for Christmas Day. We had gifts from family and friends wrapped in bright packages under the tree. It was snowing on Christmas Eve--big fat flakes that made the world outside look even more beautiful and pristine.

Still. It wasn’t quite the same and it was hard to not feel a little sad about that.

We sat in front of the fire after dinner on Christmas Eve, each with a mug of eggnog in hand. I sighed heavily and stared into the fire.

Fred chuckled. “Yeah, I know.”

A slight, rueful smile twitched at my lips. Fred took a sip of his eggnog and frowned at the contents.

“Think this needs more rum.” He flicked his wand lazily in the general direction of the kitchen and the bottle of rum came zooming out, skidding to a halt in his outstretched palm.

“It makes me so nervous when you do that,” I said, shuddering a bit as he uncapped the bottle and poured a generous portion into his cup.

He grinned and tilted the bottle toward me. “Think that means you need your drink topped off.”

I rolled my eyes, but let him freshen up my drink. We sat quietly for a while, sipping at our drinks and watching the fire.

“You want to play a drinking game?” he asked after a moment.

“Ah, yes, my favorite Christmas Eve tradition.”

He shrugged. “It’s something to do that’s not one of the eight board games we’ve already played a thousand times.”

“Fair.” I took a sip from my drink. “The only drinking game I know is Never Have I Ever.”

“Never have I ever played any other drinking game,” he quipped, taking a drink. “Your turn.”

I raised an eyebrow. “We’re doing this, then?”

“Unless you’ve got a better idea.”

I didn’t, so I stared at my mug for a moment. “Never have I ever had detention,” I said finally.

Fred snorted as he took another drink. “I probably need the whole bottle for that one.”

“At least.”

We played for a bit--it was fairly pedestrian to start, both of us making statements where we knew the other would have to drink, that sort of thing. I was pleasantly relaxed, my limbs loose and languid, warmed by the fire.

I ended up being the one to make the statement that changed the course of the evening. I didn’t intend to do this--my intent and motivation simply was to get an embarrassing story from Fred. I did not expect it to initially backfire in such a spectacular way.

“Never have I ever been caught wanking off,” I said with a bit of a smirk.

Fred smirked right back as he took a drink. “You only  _ think _ you haven’t been caught.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re just saying that to distract from the fact that you just took a drink.”

His smirk never wavered. “I’m saying that because your silencing charm has failed the last six or seven mornings.”

Heat flooded my face in the immediate and damning way that it does when you've been caught out. There had been some awkwardness with my new living arrangements, but I’d been discreet--I knew how to lock the door and cast a silencing charm when the mood struck. Or at least I thought I did. The last several mornings, I’d woken up incredibly horny and maybe I’d been sloppy with my spellwork.

I tried to seal off my expression, but it was about a beat too late to be terribly convincing. “You’re lying.”

“Nope. I can do an impression if you’d like.”

Humiliation gave way to irritation and I smacked him on the arm. “Ass. You should have said something.”

He shrugged, still smiling, though it looked more like a grin and less like a smirk than it had previously. “Contrary to the impression I may be giving, I didn’t want to embarrass you. And honestly, it was kind of hot so…” He trailed off, like he maybe hadn’t intended to say that last part.

An immediate, loud silence followed. I was embarrassed, certainly, but more immediate and confusing was the fact that I also felt oddly turned on. 

Leave it to Fred to cut through that tense awkwardness with his own particular brand of bluntness.

“D’you want to mess around a bit?”

I blinked up at him in surprise.

“I mean, no pressure one way or the other,” he amended. “It’s just, we’ve been quarantined for nearly three months and I’m in desperate need of a good shag and I think you might be as well, at least from the sounds of it.”

I paused for a moment. “So what, just like...a one night stand sort of thing?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

I pressed my lips together thoughtfully. I’d never done anything like this before, but when it came down to it, I was both intrigued and absolutely aching for it. “Okay.”

There was a beat of quiet as he sat his mug down on the coffee table. He looked at me and patted his lap. “Come here, then.”

I set my own mug down on the coffee table and went over to him, settling in his lap, my legs straddled over his hips. My hands went tentatively to his shoulders and I drew in a shaky breath as his hands slid to my thighs.

“All right?” he asked, his hands pausing.

“Yeah.” I swallowed. 

“You’re sure you want this?”

“Yeah, I’m just a little nervous. This is all...new.”

He gave me a slight smile. “Well, why don’t we start with this: what turns you on?”

The question itself sent a flood of heat between my thighs. I drew in a shaky breath. “Well...I mean…I’ve always liked having my neck kissed.”

He raised an eyebrow before lowering his head and pressing a single kiss to the base of my throat, right at my collarbone. My eyes fluttered shut as he did it again, his tongue drawing a lazy line along the curve of my collarbone. “What else?” he murmured against my neck.

“What d’you mean what else?”

“Tell me what else turns you on.” His teeth grazed the delicate skin around my pulse point and I could feel him smile against me as I shivered. “I bet this isn't the only thing that makes you wet. I certainly doubt that this is the only thing you were thinking about the past few mornings.”

My nervousness was still there, but his lips on my neck and murmured encouragement were certainly making it easier to ignore. My hands covered his where they still rested on my thighs. I hesitated for just a half second.

“Show me,” he coaxed.

I placed his hands against my breasts and he immediately proved that he didn’t need to be shown anything, expertly palming my breasts through my shirt in such a way that made my nipples tighten and tingle in response. His lips were at my jaw and I tilted my head, mouth seeking his. He met me with a slow kiss, the velvety heat of his tongue parting my lips easily. Fred was a demanding kisser, but not in an unappealing way--rather, it only served to underscore a raw and profound need that was unbearably sexy, especially when paired with the ache that was blossoming in between my thighs and the way his hips rolled against me. I sighed again, shifting on his lap and settling myself so that I could feel his steadily hardening cock against my clit through the thin fabric of my leggings. I moaned softly and he sucked in a deep breath as I began grinding my hips against him.

He began undoing the buttons of my shirt, chuckling when the red lace of my bra came into view. “Very festive,” he said, tracing the scalloped lace edge where it hugged the curve of my breast.

I shivered, shrugging out of my shirt. “Don’t be too impressed,” I said. I put on my sultriest voice, “I’m behind on laundry and this is my last clean bra.”

He laughed quietly, his hands snaking around my back, undoing the clasp in one well practiced motion. “Nothing gets me harder than a woman who’s behind on her chores.”

I pulled my bra off, tossing it to the side. “Wait’ll you hear about the dishes I haven’t done.”

“Kinky.” He was half-distracted, staring openly at my bare breasts with half-lidded eyes, his hands soon following the path of his gaze. His thumbs circled my nipples and I whimpered, arching into his touch. He smirked and repeated the action, pressing one open mouthed kiss against my sternum, right between my breasts. He shifted and suddenly his lips and tongue were enveloping my right nipple. I moaned, grinding my hips harder against him.

“You have fantastic tits,” he mumbled against me. “I could do this for hours.”

“Fine by m--fuuuuuck.” I let out a long moan as he lightly teased my nipple with his teeth.

“Sensitive, too,” he murmured before switching to the other side and provoking the same reaction. “I like that.” 

The combination of his mouth and hands on my tits and the friction of my hips rubbing my clit against his now rock hard cock was exquisite. I moaned, my head tipping back as I tried to increase the speed and pressure of my hips grinding against his. If I could get just a little more friction, it would be enough to make me come.

“So good, fuck, I’m getting close--”

“Oh, no, no, no.” Fred was pulling away from my tits, his hands stilling my hips. “Don’t you dare come, not yet.”

I scowled, trying in vain to thrust against him as the tension that had been building in my hips began to fade. “You had better have an acceptable alternative because I was really fucking close.”

He grinned and rolled us both over so that I was underneath him. He knelt on the floor in front of me, situating himself between my legs. “My alternative is as follows,” he said, hooking his fingers underneath the waistband of my leggings and knickers and pulling them off. “I’ve heard how hard you can make yourself come and I’m taking that as a personal challenge to take  _ extremely _ good care of you. I want you screaming at  _ least _ twice as loud for me.” He chucked my leggings and knickers aside and raised an eyebrow as his fingers slipped between my legs, barely grazing my labia. “Is that acceptable enough for you?”

“I suppose,” I said breathlessly, spreading my legs even further.

He gave me a skeptical look. “You suppose?”

I sighed, rolling my eyes. “It sounds fucking incredible, please proceed.”

He grinned, his fingers still not quite touching me. 

“Fred,” I whimpered, my hips canting forward. “Touch me.”

He chuckled and his fingers finally slid against my aching clit. He sucked in a sharp breath as I let out a low moan. “You’re drenched. It’s not going to take much to get you off, is it, sweetheart?”

I thrust my hips forward to meet the delicate touch of his fingers. “Fuck, that’s so good.”

He increased the pressure and speed of his fingers just slightly and the tingling heat that was coiling in my hips began to tighten again. He licked his lips, his eyes trailing hungrily over my naked body. “You getting close?”

“Yeah--fuck--” I could feel my body starting to tense.

“I don’t want you holding back,” he murmured. “I want you to come so hard the whole neighborhood hears you.”

“Fuck--” I was unbelievably tight, unbearably close. My body was arching off the couch as an overwhelming, tingling heat pulsed in my hips. I was aching, balanced on an exquisite edge while Fred watched me hungrily.

“That’s it. Be a good girl and come for me.”

The heat that had been coiling in my hips tightened one last time and then exploded into waves of pleasure that made me cry out, my back arching upward as I came.

“Fuck, yes, that’s gorgeous,” breathed Fred. “Let’s keep you going.”

He slid one long finger into my cunt, gently thrusting, curling forward until I moaned. He lowered his head between my legs, his lips and tongue ever so delicately stroking my clit. It was a gentle, feather light touch that felt perfect so close on the heels of my orgasm. He added a second finger and I moaned, tightening around him. Every part of me that had been so blissed out in the afterglow of my previous orgasm was starting to throb and tense in a deeply satisfying way.

“Fuck,” I whimpered. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, please--”

He chuckled and shifted slightly, increasing his pace, licking at me in earnest as his fingers moved in and out of me. Heat was blooming in my hips again and I could feel my body starting to creep back toward the edge.

“Fuck, please, please, please--” I was poised on the edge again, my whole body trembling. “I’m so close--so cl...oh fuck, fuck,  _ fuck _ , I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m--”

I cried out in one long guttural moan as my cunt spasmed around Fred’s thrusting fingers, my clit pulsing against his lips and tongue. He changed his pace, slowing down considerably, drawing out the shimmery aftershocks.

“Need you to fuck me,” I panted after I got my voice back.

He lifted his head from in between my legs and gave me a devious smile before coming up to kiss me.

“Say it again,” he said against my lips.

“Fuck me.”

Again with the wicked smile. “Once more.”

“Fred. Please.”

He made a bit of a face as he stood, grabbing a quilt from where it had been thrown on the back of the couch. “That wasn’t  _ quite _ it,” he said as he walked over to the fire.

“It was close enough. Also, what’re you doing?”

“Making some preparations,” he said, spreading out the quilt on the rug in front of the fire before transfiguring it into a plush sheepskin rug that looked as thick and soft as the falling snow outside and warm as the fire itself.

“Sheepskin?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “A bit predictable, don’t you think?”

“This is the thanks I get for thinking of your comfort?” he said, walking back over to the couch and grabbing me by the hands, pulling me to my feet. 

“I’m just saying that you’re more creative than that,” I said with a sly smile as he led me over to the rug.

“A likely story.” He pulled me close, kissing me again. “What was it you were saying that you needed?”

I was too far gone to be irritated by his teasing. “I need you to fuck me so bad, Fred.”

“Think I’ll need to get undressed if you want me to fuck you,” he murmured against my lips.

My hands were already sliding under his sweater, exploring the flat lean planes of his chest. I wasn’t quite tall enough to pull it over his head, so he took over while my hands followed the sparse trail of ginger hair from just above his belly button to his belt buckle, framed by the sharp jut of his hipbones. I busied myself with undoing the belt buckle, button, and zip, pushing his jeans and boxers down his thighs, freeing his cock.

“Fuck, you’re so big,” fell out of my mouth before I could stop myself. He was achingly hard in a way that would have brought me to my knees if I didn't want him inside me so badly.

He was smirking slightly as he brought my hand to his cock. “Yeah? You think you can take me?”

“Fuck, yes.” I stroked him and his head tipped back, the groan that fell from his lips making me weak in the knees. “I need you inside me,” I breathed. “Please.”

He kissed me and eased me to the floor and onto my back, shucking off his jeans and crawling over me so that his warm, hard body covered mine. He rubbed his cock against my soaking cunt and I whimpered, feeling him close enough to nudge at my slick entrance.

“I need you--”   


He had lined up his cock so that he was poised to enter me.

“Fred--”

He eased into me--either out of consideration for his size or because he’s a fucking tease, I wasn’t quite sure. Possibly it was both. Either way, I was practically keening by the time he was buried fully to the hilt.

“So fucking tight,” he groaned. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

My cunt ached, desperate for friction, relief. “Need you, please--”

He began to move at an achingly slow pace, building a deep, throbbing pleasure with every stroke. I met his thrusting hips trying to urge him on faster, harder,  _ more _ . But he was relentlessly slow, keeping his pace even, measured.

I whimpered in frustration and he chuckled, capturing my lips in a slow kiss.

“I want to take my time with you, love,” he murmured. “You feel  _ so _ fucking good.”

This continued for several minutes as the steady push and pull of his cock nudged me closer and closer.

“I can feel how close you are,” he breathed in my ear. “You gonna come for me?”

“Fuck--”

“Your cunt feels so good on my cock,” he said, thrusting hard. “You’re so tight and wet and I fucking love hearing you scream when you come.”

I could feel my orgasm building, the butterflies in my stomach reaching a fever pitch. “Fred, I--” Words left me entirely as I neared the edge.

“Fuck yes,” breathed Fred. “Let me feel you come, gorgeous.”

I cried out and arched against him as I came, my nails digging into his back as my whole body trembled and my cunt spasmed and tensed around his thrusting cock. He swore and finally his hips began moving faster, his cock moving in and out of me, prolonging the extreme pleasure that was coursing through me.

“Fuck, I’m gonna lose it--”

He buried his head in the crook of my neck and thrust hard against me before shuddering and letting out a low groan that rumbled deliciously against my skin as he emptied himself into me.

We lay on the floor as we tried to catch our breaths, Fred’s head pillowed on my breasts, his cock slowly growing soft inside of me.

“I really needed that,” I said after a while.

He chuckled sleepily. “Yeah, me too.”

*

I didn’t intend to fall asleep, but I must have shut my eyes at some point because I woke several hours later, curled up against Fred. The fire had gone down to a low flicker and the room was quite a bit chillier than it had been a few hours ago. Fred had, at some point, grabbed a couple of pillows and what looked like the duvet from his bed and pulled it over the two of us, as well as enchanted the sheepskin to have a bit more padding so it more resembled a mattress. The duvet had fallen down to my waist, leaving my top half exposed and chilled. I tugged at the duvet, trying to pull it up over my shoulders. Fred stirred.

“S’matter?”

“It’s freezing,” I said, shivering and burrowing underneath the duvet.

He sat up, fumbling around in the dark for a moment. There was a mumbled spell and a flicker of light, followed by the sound of the fire coming back up to a full roar. I rolled over, turning my face to the fire. Fred got up and shuffled off into the darkness, returning a moment later with a stack of blankets. He arranged each one carefully on top of the duvet before crawling back in, spooning up against my back, his arms snaking around my waist.

“Better?” he asked.

“Getting there.” I sighed, allowing myself to relax against the heat of his body. “Thanks.”

“Of course.”

The reality that we were both still quite naked did not occur to me until that moment. There was no real reason for us to still be together, let alone together and naked. This was supposed to be a one night stand.

But at the same time...I couldn’t really bring myself to feel worried about it. I was warm and content. After three incredibly trying months, didn’t I deserve a bit of physical comfort? There was a warm, cozy fire in front of me, I was cuddled up under a pile of blankets after having some of the best sex of my life. Things were good.

Fred’s hand rested on my hip, his fingers casually tracing light circles on my skin. I sighed contentedly and felt his cock twitch. 

It was like flipping a switch. Suddenly, heat was pooling in between my legs and all I could think about was fucking him again.

I stared at the fire. Would it be weird if I tried to initiate something? I mean, yes, I’d felt him twitch against me, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. We’d said one night stand, but that could just as easily mean once and never again or that anything that happened tonight was fair game. Then again, I’d never done anything like this before, so maybe there were rules that I didn’t know about.

But then again...there was his hand on my hip, his forefinger still tracing feather light circles on my skin. That didn’t exactly scream once and never again. That seemed to imply a different sort of screaming entirely.

My cunt throbbed. God, I wanted him.

Maybe I could just very subtly move a little and that would give me a clearer read on the situation. I shifted my hips very slightly, as though I was merely trying to get comfortable.

His cock twitched again and I heard him take in a sharp breath and he pressed a kiss against my shoulder.

“You know,” he said, his hand moving lower on my hip, “there are other ways to warm you up.”

My breath hitched. “Were you thinking of something in particular?”

He chuckled, pressing his hardening cock against me more intentionally. “I think you know exactly what I had in mind.”

“Thought this was supposed to be a one night stand,” I said lightly, though it was partly for my own edification.

“Technically, the night’s still not over,” he said, his hand wandering lower as I spread my legs.

“Tidy little loophole, that.”

“Mmhmm.” His finger lightly traced my labia as he pressed one lingering kiss against my neck. “Love how quickly you spread your legs for me.” 

“I um...may have had the same thing in mind as you,” I said.

“Did you?” he murmured, his teeth scraping gently against the delicate skin off my neck. “You came so fucking hard for me earlier I thought you might be done for a bit.”

“No, I’m definitely ready for more.”

“Yeah?” His forefinger slipped gently between my folds, just barely grazing my clit. I tipped my head back against his shoulder, letting out a long moan.  “Tell me what you’re feeling,” he murmured as his hand settled into a steady rhythm on my clit.

“You’re making me so fucking wet,” I moaned. “Feels so good.”

“You’re so ready for it, aren’t you?” he breathed. “You gonna come for me as hard as you did earlier?”

“That depends,” I gasped as he slipped a finger inside of me, his thumb still working my clit. “You gonna fuck me as hard as you did earlier?”

He chuckled, his voice going low and husky. “What I’m trying to decide is if I want to fuck you from behind like this, or if I want you to ride me. Bet you’d look so fucking good sitting on my cock.”

“We could do both,” I breathed before my words turned into another long moan.

“Both?” He was maneuvering his unoccupied hand up to cup my breast. “Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” He tweaked my nipple in between his thumb and forefinger and I keened. 

“Fuck, Fred, I need you so bad.”

“You’re gonna come for me first,” he murmured. “Get you so slick and ready for me so I can fuck you until you’re screaming my name.”

“Fuck, yes.”

“You took my cock so beautifully earlier,” he said, his lips grazing my ear. “Felt so good fucking your tight cunt.”

I whimpered, my hips jerking with his hand. “Fuck, Fred, please.”

“Come for me first,” he coaxed, adding a second finger and making me moan again. “Show me how much you need me to fuck you with my hard cock.”

“Oh fuck,” I keened. “Want you to fucking  _ ruin _ me with your cock, need you inside me--oh-- _ fuck _ , I’m close--” I could feel myself starting to tense, the tingling glow of my orgasm within reach.

“Never knew you had such a filthy mouth,” he murmured. “It’s so fucking hot.”

I was gasping, my hips thrusting in time with his hand, my entire body poised on the edge.

“Let it out,” he murmured. “You’re nearly there, I can feel how much you want it.”

My head tipped back and my back arched as I came hard, my cunt convulsing on his thrusting fingers.

“Good girl,” purred Fred. “That’s so fucking gorgeous, love.”

“Please fuck me,” I moaned, thrusting my hips back against him. “Need you so bad.”

“You ready for me?”

“Please,” I whimpered. “Please, please, please, please--”

He shifted slightly and I could feel him lining up the head of his cock at the entrance to my cunt before he pushed into me. I moaned--his hard fullness was exactly what I needed.

“Fuck, that’s so good,” he groaned. His hand moved again between my legs, fingers finding my clit. He began to rub me gently as his hips began thrusting.

“Oh fuck,” I groaned, my cunt tensing around his cock.

“That good?” he asked, pressing a kiss to my neck.

“Fuck, yes, so good, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” he purred in my ear. “I’m going to keep fucking you like this until you come and then you’re going to ride my cock until we both come.”

“Oh God, yes,” I moaned. “Getting close.”

“You can’t help it, can you?” he breathed. “You just came so hard minutes ago and the second I start fucking you, you’re on the edge again.”

“Fuck--”

“I can feel you getting tighter,” he said, nipping at my ear. “Let it out. Come for me.

It’s like his words were an incantation for a spell--I started coming as soon as he finished speaking, my body trembling, back arching. He fucked me slowly as I came, like he was savoring the feeling.

He allowed me a moment to catch my breath, his lips pressing soft kisses against my neck.

“You ready to be on top?” he said.

I turned in his arms so I faced him. “I think the question is are  _ you  _ ready for  _ me  _ to be on top?”

He grinned and pulled me in to kiss him. “Oh,  _ definitely _ .”

I let him kiss me for a moment before rolling over him, straddling his lap, wrapping my hand around his cock and stroking him slowly. “So hard,” I said, licking my lips rather intentionally.

He gave me a hungry look. “Are you trying to tease me, you dirty girl?”

I scoffed at him. “What do you mean  _ trying _ ?”

He grinned, sitting up and kissing me deeply. “I mean that you need me too badly to do it properly. You’ll give in the minute I start touching you.” His hand slid again between my legs and slowly began rubbing my clit.

I immediately undercut my own point by letting out a low moan, my hips rocking with his hand.

He chuckled, lowering his head to suck at my neck. “C’mon, love,” he said huskily. “Let me see how pretty you look riding my cock.”

Whatever remaining willpower I possessed vanished and I positioned myself over him, gradually easing down onto his cock, moaning as he filled me.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, looking at my naked body with a reverence that made me tighten around him.

I braced my hands on his shoulders and began to rock against him. He pressed one hand flat against my lower back, fingertips digging into my skin when I found the rhythm that made him groan. After a while, his other hand slipped between my legs, rubbing my clit gently.

When I reflected on it later, it was a rather beautiful, ethereal scene--the firelight casting flickering shadows on our bodies as I moved against him, the sheepskin soft under my knees, the chill of the air sharply contrasting against the joined heat of our bodies. A heavy heat was blossoming in my hips as my cunt tensed around the unyielding thickness of his cock, pushing me closer and closer to the edge, waiting to be lit afire by the shimmery sparks of pleasure he was drawing from my clit. His mouth was rough against mine, occasionally pressing against my neck and breasts, licking and sucking.

It was a long, slow build to that final peak, but when I finally came, it was an intense and utterly consuming experience. For a moment, I couldn’t make a sound because every single cell in my body was fizzing and shimmering like it had been filled with champagne and it just felt so  _ good _ it took my breath away. I could hear Fred swear as I shuddered, a long guttural groan coming from somewhere deep inside me, my cunt spasming around his cock.

“Fuck, sweetheart, don’t stop,” he groaned. Somehow I managed to keep moving, keep riding him even as my legs felt as though they were filling with honey.

He came with the last pulse of my orgasm, letting out a moan that made my toes curl as he spilled into me.

He held me for a moment after as we paused, clinging to each other as we caught our breaths. I rolled off after a moment, partly because my body was jelly and partly because...well. It didn’t seem like a good idea to linger too much in that moment. Not when I could see the sky beginning to pinken with the sunrise.

I lay on my back, trying not to think about any of it. I felt Fred flop down beside me, his breathing heavy.

We were both quiet for a few minutes as we caught our breath.

“Are you familiar with the superstition about the first hour of the new year?” he said unexpectedly.

I blinked, not entirely sure that I’d heard him right because it didn’t exactly seem relevant. “No, I don’t think so.”

“They say that whatever you’re doing in the first hour of the new year is how you’ll spend the rest of the year.” 

I yawned and nodded. “Makes sense. Why’d you mention it?”

“Because,” he said, “New Year’s is less than a week away and if you’re amenable to it, I’d like to pencil you in for the first hour of the new year.”

I turned over on my side to look at him. He had some sort of unreadable emotion on his face, but he looked sincere in a way that struck me as a little vulnerable.

“What are you saying?” I asked.

“I don’t want this to be a one night stand,” he said plainly.

I paused for a beat. “Are you asking me out?”

He shrugged. “If you want to get technical about it.”

I laughed. It was a ridiculous way to ask someone on a date--we were both naked and lying on a sheepskin rug in front of a fire in the middle of a multi-week quarantine. It was absurd.

But at the same time: it was exactly what I wanted. I wanted to have sex with him again--and not just because he was really good at making me come, but because I yearned for that particular kind of closeness that came with sex. I wanted him closer than close, I wanted to fall asleep in his arms, I wanted to talk to him for hours while we lay naked in bed, stopping only to eat or have sex.

It wasn’t so much that I wanted to love him as it was I was realizing that I had already loved him for a very long time.

I rolled over and kissed him. “I’d like that a lot.”

He smiled against my lips. “Good.”

*

The quarantine ended five weeks later, but I didn’t move out.

And a year later, when Fred got down on one knee at midnight on New Year’s with a ring and a question, I said yes.


End file.
